AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His eyes shift to his son, who immediately unfolds his arms to raise his hands in defense.
“Hey, tomorrow’s Friday. I’ve already got plans,” Viktor states, letting himself off the hook.
“Please, Viktor?” Alina groans. “Come on. You were probably planning on going clubbing anyway. Just think of it as me and my friends tagging along. You don’t even have to speak to us.”
“Not a chance,” Viktor says, his gaze shifting to his sister. Then he spots me over her shoulder, and his face brightens. “But what about Mishka? He helped the last time you went clubbing, and your friends didn’t seem creeped out then.”
Alina’s head turns, her blue eyes finding me for the first time, and they ignite with nervous anticipation. Our sneaking around must be wearing on her nerves. I know it’s worn on mine, having to watch every shared glance, every touch to ensure no one notices or questions whether I might have feelings for her.
But in the next instant, she offers me a polite smile and turns back to her father. “I think that’s a reasonable compromise.” Her tone is perfectly level, innocent, a flawless cover that says she hardly knows me at all.
“Not to mention, he’s proven perfectly capable of protecting Alina,” Viktor adds as Sergio studies me from his desk.
“Very well,” Sergio agrees. “Mishka, would you be willing to escort my daughter and her friends to Plastique tomorrow evening? I would temporarily relieve you of your regular responsibilities with the understanding that you’re not to leave her side until you can safely deliver her home.”
Three pairs of eyes focus on me, waiting for my answer.
My stomach flip-flops at the thought of being in Alina’s proximity for an entire evening without getting to touch her. I’ll need to be on my best behavior because in Plastique, eyes will be watching. That’s a guarantee.
“Of course. Whatever you need, Gospodin,” I agree, keeping my tone professional.
31
ALINA
Itake my time changing out of my school clothes and getting ready for an evening of clubbing with my friends—and Mishka. Things could not have worked out better. It will be a nice way to spend time with him without having to talk—which I don’t want to do because I still have no clue what to tell him about the baby, and I hate keeping a secret from him.
I have another half hour before Tammy’s supposed to pick me up, and I intend to spend every last minute in my room because I already saw Mishka’s 4Runner pull up and park. He’s been downstairs for the last ten minutes—way too much time in which he might try to steal a second alone, and I’m dreading the conversation I know needs to happen.
Brushing on my makeup, I take extra care in contouring and blending, drawing on my eyeliner. I even curl my eyelashes, a practice I normally consider rather pointless since they already have a decent curl.
Then I head into my closet to find a dress. I have a few club outfits now, and this time, I go for the shimmery charcoal-gray one. Its low back has black tassels forming a scooping layer of flowing coverage that moves when I do, revealing small glimpses of flesh. I finish it off with a pair of black heels and give my look a once-over in my full-length mirror.
My high ponytail shows off the dress’s features well, the soft curls making my golden hair look thick and bouncy. Maybe if I give Mishka enough visuals to distract him, we won’t have to talk at all.
A single honk draws my attention to the window, and I look out to see the long black stretch limo sitting along the curb. Looks like that’s my cue.
Taking a deep breath, I try to lock my troubled thoughts into a box for later. Then I cup Boris’s chin and press a kiss to his soft snout. “I’ll see you later,” I promise.
Mishka’s waiting for me at the front door, his eyes finding me as soon as I reach the top of the stairs. They follow me the whole way down, a silent electricity crackling between us. How can I even consider going through life without him? He makes me feel like I’m the only other person on this earth.
He looks striking in a black suit and red tie, his black hair falling into his storm blue eyes, as always. The heat of his gaze makes my heart hammer against my ribs.
“Miss Sakharov,” he says with a tilt of his head as I reach the bottom step. Then he opens the front door with a sweeping gesture, holding it for me with near theatrical formality.
“Why, thank you, Mr. Orlov,” I say, laying it on thickly to tease him.
And though his expression remains as serious and stoic as ever, I catch the slightest hint of his lips as they twitch.
“Come on, Alina. It’s time to party!” Tammy calls, flinging the limo door open and waving me inside.
Giggling, I rush forward, ducking into the car. Mishka follows a moment later, taking the last available seat as he settles next to me. Giddy excitement pools in my belly as our thighs touch, his elbow bumping mine.
But no one else seems to notice. They’re already enjoying a glass of champagne, seeing as I was the last to get picked up. And in their minds, the fun has already begun.
Thankfully, they seem too distracted to offer me a glass of bubbly, and after a few moments of dreading that someone will notice, I relax and join in with their laughter.
Our first stop is dinner, where we ride the elevator up to the Oasis, one of my family’s finest restaurants. We settle into our chairs, though Mishka remains standing a short distance from us, his hands clasped behind him in an intimidating stance, his back to the wall so he can scan the room with a terrifying look of warning to anyone who might get the wrong idea.
